


A Tale of Mystery

by AllNaturalChungus



Category: Game of Thrones (TV), Impractical Jokers, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Boss/Employee Relationship, M/M, Mystery, Romantic Comedy, Seduction, Shady Dealings, Who Likes Short Shorts?, old flame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:53:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28081242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllNaturalChungus/pseuds/AllNaturalChungus
Summary: The steamy sequel to "A Big Fan"!  Chase Dominick, long-time member of the Impractical Jokers crew, has noticed that ol' B.Q. is acting strange lately.  Is Chase imagining things, or has 1/4th of the Tenderloins developed a craving for his loins?
Kudos: 2





	A Tale of Mystery

The room was almost pitch black, save for the glow of a lone monitor. It illuminated the upper half of the bed it sat on, the distant pair of eyes staring from a distance, and a figure watching obsessively. After the ad the TruTV logo appeared briefly, then cutting to a fountain. Brian “Q” Quinn was chatting up a stranger in the park, awaiting the next gag.

The lone figure’s fingers tapped the edge of the keyboard during the video’s first few seconds. When a new man appeared on the screen, clad in a cowboy hat and short shorts, the tapping ceased.

Breathlessly, the lone figure whispered, “Yes…” As the video continued, it showed Q gushing over the tall stranger, whom he had immediately identified as a prostitute. He freely shared his opinions with a random park-goer seated next to him, who half-heartedly agreed with him.

In the real world, lightning flashed with an accompanying boom. The pair of eyes darted through the doorway and into darkness. The lone figure’s eyes, however, remained fixed on the screen. The tall stranger sat next to Q casually.

“I just got one question,” he asked.

“What do you got for me?”

“I just wanna know how much?” Q began to giggle. The lone figure’s breath hitched. He rewound the video. “I just wanna know how much?” Again. “I just wanna know how much?” And again. “I just wanna know how much-just wanna know how much-how much-how much?” The monitor’s light revealed a sinister grin on the lone figure’s face.

“How much indeed?” he said aloud to himself, alone in that darkened room.

\------  
Shooting just wrapped up for the day. The location was at the Fairway Market, where the Jokers had to compete head-to-head to convince a random shopper to join their side of a food fight. At the end of the tournament-style shoot, Q had barely managed to come out on top over Joe. By the end of the day, they were all covered in welts, juices, whipped cream, etc. As soon as the shoot was over, Sal was already hurrying home to his shower. Joe and Q arrived to find one of their crew, Chase Dominick, was already losing himself in laughter.

“Oh, you think this is a riot, huh?” Q mock-inquired of him. Chase was too busy suppressing laughter to respond. He threw his arms open, motioning for a big hug. “Come here,” he commanded. Chase, still laughing, put his arms up in defense, but Q closed in nonetheless. He latched onto Chase, making sure to wipe his beard off on Chase’s shirt.

“I love you too,” Chase chuckled, finally calming down.

Over by Murr, Joe rubbed a sore spot just below his throat and mumbled, “He almost got my windpipe with that orange.”

“Who,” Murr asked half-investedly, “Q?”

“No, the other guy.” Joe cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he pitched in college or something.”

“Uh huh,” Murr mumbled with disinterest. Joe turned to see him looking into his phone with the camera open on himself.

“You know, it’s not the lighting. You just look like a ferret.”

“What?” Murr shook out of his haze. “No, I think one of my fillings is loose.” He walked over to Joe and opened wide. “See what I mean?”

“What am I gonna do, glue it back in place?”

\------  
Chase and a few other crew members were packing up for the day. He was surprised to see Q come back so quickly. He looked like he just toweled off his mess and came back.

“Hey, Brian,” he inquired, “what brings you back so soon?” He saw Brian shrug.

“You know,” he replied with a pause, “just thought I’d help the crew out today.” Chase squinted at him. Something in those dark brown eyes and that uneasy smile told him Q was hiding something. But he decided to let it go for now.

“That’d be great, actually.” Chase knew he sounded off when he said it. “Pete had to go home early, so we could use the extra pair of hands.” Q’s face changed to one of genuine concern. “Food poisoning.”

“The new Thai place?”

“The new Thai place.” Q gave a knowing nod. “So, if you could just grab the other end of this trunk-”

“Oh yeah, yeah!” Q replied, shaking his head. “You just tell me when to start.” Once they both had a hold of it, Chase counted to three and they lifted. It felt much heavier than usual, and Chase could tell that Q was not putting much effort into it. When he could manage to pay attention, he could see Q mouthing something to himself or seemingly staring at Chase’s arms. He could not dwell on it too much while hauling the trunk, but he was slightly unnerved.

“You doing alright?” Q asked as they got to the back of the van.

“Yep,” Chase grunted as they hoisted the trunk into the back, where it was received by other crew members. He turned to them and said, “That’s the last of it.” They closed the backdoor from within and the van drove off, leaving Chase alone with Q. Pain started to set into his shoulder, and Q seemed to notice.

“Here, turn around,” he said.

“What?” Chase questioned. “Why?”

“Lemme give you a massage.”

“I’m fine, really.” He was trying to downplay the pain.

“Chase,” Q retorted, a more commanding tone in his voice. “You guys are our crew. We all gotta look after each other’s well being.” Chase sighed.

“Yeah, okay.” He turned around, and felt Q’s hands descend onto his shoulders. With a firm grip, he began to slowly work the tense, muscular tissue in his hands. At first Chase audibly winced as Q worked over his hurting shoulder, but he found the pain ebbing within seconds. His wincing gave way to quiet, soothed moans.

“You like that?” Q asked.

“Yeah,” Chase breathed slowly.

“I told you,” Q continued softly, “we gotta look out for each other.” He paused as Chase let out another relaxed groan. “We gots to fulfill all our needs.”

“Yeah,” Chase sighed more enthusiastically. An alarming thought then entered his mind; Q’s hands seemed to be slowly creeping down his chest. He pulled away. “That’s enough, I think.”

“You okay?” Q inquired, a look of concern on his face.

“Yeah, I’m good. It felt- It did the trick.” Chase tapped his shoulder. “All better now. But it did help. Thanks, Brian.”

“You’re… welcome…”

“I should head home, check on everything.” He started towards his car, turning his head to add, “See you on Friday’s shoot!” Chase’s heart was racing as he hopped in and turned on the ignition. He had to be calm and not pull out like a getaway driver. As he drove past Q, he could see the Joker rubbing the back of his own neck, looking down at the ground. His expression was confused and a little sad, especially the way his lips rested above that grey-streaked beard. Seeing it all twisted something in Chase like a wrench. He kept replaying that moment. Did Q’s hands really start drifting down, or had he imagined it?

As his heart rate started to come down, so did the hysteria surrounding the encounter. Brian’s my boss, he thought to himself, he wouldn’t do that. His brain ran all the reasons why what he felt was imaginary. It was inappropriate, it was broad daylight, people were out and about, and most importantly, Chase was fairly certain he heard Q was seeing someone. It was asinine to think Q would make a move on him. That’s that, then. He pulled into the parking garage in his neighborhood. There’s no need to worry about it then. Just don’t be awkward next shoot.

\------  
“Come on, where’s the clip?”

The lone figure sat in his room that night, rifling through TruTV’s video archive. He quickly grew frustrated in his search for the right video. It was clear tonight, and the moon was shining through the window. A pair of eyes were staring from the darkened corner of the room, gleaming with what little light was available.

“Wait, there…”

This clip took place in an office where Murr took the role of a representative of Heritage, an Ancestry.com knock-off.

“Just pick a swab,” Murr directed, opening a bag to the Jokers’ latest victim. After the “sample” was placed in another bag, Chase entered, wearing a blue button-up with short sleeves. As he took the sample away, the camera cut to Q in the backroom.

“DNA proves he is 100% handsome,” he directed Murr to say. He looked simply giddy. 

“Mighty high praise,” the lone figure muttered to himself. It did not take long for him to find a clip from later in that same episode, this time with Sal playing the consultant. The lone figure watched up until Sal, coerced by the other Jokers, confronted Chase about “not informing the client to bring toenail clippings.”

“You can’t coast on looks your whole life,” Sal asserted. The lone figure grumbled audibly before closing his laptop. The distant eyes approached the bed, heralded by shallow breathing. The lone figure looked to the eyes in the dark, his mouth illuminated by the light of the moon.

“Things are gonna change soon,” the lone figure whispered, “I know it.” A wolfish grin shone in the moonlight. He patted the bed and commanded, “Here.”

\------  
Chase was livid. A power line went down, so traffic had been a nightmare on his way to today’s shoot. He grabbed his iced coffee and headed into the office building. He knew the gist of what they were planning: a receptionist would be subjected to different comical disguises until they caught on. It’s a popular bit, he thought to himself, we’ve done this multiple times before. At least today will go smoothly.

No sooner had he mused to himself than heated words of a hushed conversation reached his ears. He had been passing by an office that was not scheduled for today’s shoot. The door was closed but the light was on, and Chase could hear two people having an argument. Curious, he glanced down both ends of the hallway, then cautiously put his ear up against the door. It was two men, one with a huskier voice and the other smoother.

“...and that is not cool,” the smooth voice was asserted.

“I’m telling ya,” the husky voice retorted, “that ain’t how it went down!”

“Explain it then.”

“I was just helping the crew out, he hurt his shoulder, I was being a pal and massaging his shoulder-” The husky voice abruptly and briefly changed tone as if reacting to some unseen gesture. “As any good friend should! -and then he got all weird on me.”

“Well,” the smoother voice began with sass, “I know I would be weirded out with my boss suddenly getting- hold up, I’m not done- my boss not only hanging around late to ‘help out’ but getting all handsy outta nowhere.”

At this point Chase caught out of the corner of his eye Pete McPartland. He put out a finger to shush just as Pete was about to call out from across the hallway. He could make out Pete mouthing “What?” with an exasperated look on his face. Chase mouthed “Ten minutes” and held out his hands showing all digits. With an annoyed look Pete mouthed “Five” while showing one hand, then turned and stormed off where he came from. Chase then realized he was missing out on part of the conversation.

“...about You-know-who?” the smoother voice was asking hostilely.

“We aren’t…” the husky voice trailed off.

“Oh my god.” The smooth voice abruptly shifted in tone to one of concern. “Since when?”

“It wasn’t my choice.” There was a pause. “We just… You wouldn’t understand.” Chase heard movement in the room. Impulsively he pulled away from the door and began walking as inconspicuous as he could. His pace was a bit hurried but that was fine. He was late to work after all. He felt a slight chill race down his spine when the door behind him opened, but he dared not look back and give away his guilty expression. After he rounded the corner he slowed his pace a bit, his heart rate coming down. Footsteps echoed from around the corner, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. After a peak they continued down another hallway. Chase let out a deep sigh.

What was that all about? he thought to himself. It sounded like someone saw Q and him the other day, and word got around. And who was this “You-know-who”? Is he seeing someone? Was, I mean? And what did that have to do with the other day? What did that have to do with the massage? The alarming feeling from that day returned to his mind, both soothing and uncomfortable. Not one day went by that left him without that moment playing back in his head. Like a video that haunted his Youtube front page everyday, that little red bar all the way across.

\------  
“Today,” Joe began, “our goal is to get by the receptionist as many times as possible without getting caught.” Slightly behind the other three, Murr was hastily throwing on a wig.

“To do that we’ll be working our magic,” Q said with an exaggerated wink, “with some choice disguises.” Murr was shoving padding down the front of his polo. Behind the camera, Chase squirmed. It felt as if Q was winking at him, staring right into the camera. As he should be, Chase, he thought to himself, pull it together!

Then Sal wrapped up with, “Whoever gets by the least number of times… loses!” Murr slapped on some lipstick, then stepped forward towards the other guys.

“Hi,” he greeted, “my name’s Mary.” The other Jokers started freaking out hooting and hollering like a construction crew at a random passing lady.

“And cut!” Pete called out. “Great take guys.” Chase was about to take and set up the camera in the room where the Jokers set up shop, but then he noticed Q coming over. He was currently in a black t-shirt that fit well over his plump form. Chase focused hard on not tensing up.

“Hey Q,” he casually greeted.

“Hey Chase,” Q replied nonchalantly, walking around the camera. “Got caught up in traffic, did ya?” Chase watched as Q walked past him to the table just behind, where his coffee cup was. The actual one, not the prop one.

“Yeah, how did you-”

“I saw you bolting down the hallway.” Q took a big swig, followed by a throaty aah. “Must’ve been pretty peeved about it.”

“Yeah, well a power line went down.”

“Really?” Q was gesturing with his cup as he talked. “I knew that storm was kinda wild for this time of year, but damn!” He took another slurp. “Well, we better get crackin’ before Pete gets impatient.”

“You know how he gets,” Chase added jokingly. He finally felt more at ease. Q snarled and made a faux-angry growl. They shared a chuckle.

“Oh, and Chase?” Q’s tone became less jovial. “I need to speak to you after the set.” With dramatic inflection he added, “A-lone.” He stared into Chase’s soul with those brown eyes set in a stern gaze. Chase could only stare back in silence. Q abruptly broke eye contact with a “Okay, great talk!” and left to join the other Jokers.

“Is he serious?” Chase asked himself aloud after a moment of solitude. He had no answer to the question, but he knew he’d better prepare himself for whatever Q wanted to discuss. For now, all Chase could do was get to work.

\------  
The shoot went fantastically. Joe’s luck finally ran out with Cole Von Cole . Q had brought out a bizarre, KISS-inspired drag character called Valerie, complete with spiked jacket, facepaint, and glossy leather short-shorts. Avoiding drag entirely, Murr broke out the old Q wig, now paired with a matching beard made of human hair, to play a dishevelled hillbilly named Jed. Sal went last, getting caught doing a very convincing mime character after receiving his envelope. He made a point of saying “Thank you” as part of the joke, and the receptionist recognized him by his voice. All in all, great material for the next episode.

Chase lingered around in one of the offices they borrowed after the shoot. Q had disappeared immediately afterwards, presumably to clean up. He waited for what seemed like an hour, looked at his watch, and saw that it was already five in the evening.

“Jesus,” he groaned to himself, “wrapped up over an hour ago and he’s still not here.” After a brief pause, he muttered, “I can’t do this, I got things to do.” Any curiosity about Q’s vague demands had been stamped out by frustration. He began heading out, his footsteps echoing loudly. He passed the room where the fight had taken place, followed by a voice calling out to him.

“And where do you think you’re going?” It was Q’s voice. Still frustrated, Chase considered just continuing to walk out. “I’m waiting…” With a sigh of resignation, he opened the door. The room was literally an office, with a desk and shelves and everything. The big chair swivelled around, revealing Q behind the desk. He was wearing his t-shirt again, the makeup taken off his face. His eyes were wide as he was rotating into view, but they relaxed upon meeting Chase’s gaze. 

“Oh thank god, it is you!” He sounded relieved and worn at the same time. “I accidentally called in like four other people before you.”

“Yeah?” Chase said following an amused snort.

“Yeah,” Q continued, “I got Joe, Christine, Pete, even Simmy stopped in.”

“You mean Simmy Can’t-Stand-Your-Bits?”

“Yeah, our Simmy.” Q’s brow raised mid-sentence, and he did not pause before adding, “How many Simmys do you know?” Chase shrugged reflexively, paused to ponder, then shrugged again.

“So,” Chase inquired, “what did you want to talk about?” Q gestured with a stiff hand at the massive armchair opposite of his. Chase chuckled a bit, but Q remained stone-faced. “...You’re serious with this?”

“Sit,” Q commanded very sternly, putting extra diction in the word. Chase felt a slight tingle at this sudden change of personality.

“Alright,” he replied, plopping down in the seat. “Now what?” Q stared silently at him for what felt like minutes.

“You’ve been working with us, how long now?” he asked.

“Some time, I guess.”

“Six years, Chase,” Q spoke with authority, “Six.”

“And?”

“There’s a certain protocol with the way things work in showbiz.” He gestured to Chase, saying, “there’s you, the crew. The cameraman, the producer, etc. You get the idea.” Q then gestured to himself. “Then there’s the talent. The big stars on the screen.” He began to stand up, continuing as he did. “Now, I would be remiss if I stated that one side was inherently more important than the other.” 

And there it is, Chase thought to himself as he saw Q’s body below his waist. He was still wearing the Don-Ya rocker shorts that he’d donned for his “Valerie” character. Seeing Q’s hairy thighs and thick hips in those shiny leather shorts became the sole visual he could focus on. He was in shock, yes, but there was another feeling. Chase felt his mouth drying slightly.

“Many times, production is in charge,” Q continued, ignoring Chase’s reactions, “and the talent is expendable. Replaceable.” He had already begun slowly walking around the table, his head high and confident. “But sometimes the talent is in control.” He was walking up to Chase, and now Chase could see a full, unobstructed view of Q’s legs. He had the rocker boots on too. Chase caught himself enough to not swallow hard. What’s coming over me? he thought to himself. 

“They’re too irresistible to the camera.” He began slowly making his way past Chase. “They become too big to ignore, too much of a draw to be swapped out.” Chase could hear the tumble of the lock behind them. The footsteps came up quickly behind his chair, then he felt Q’s hands on his shoulders.

“Or sometimes,” he said, massaging Chase’s shoulders as he continued, “they know just how others tick.” His voice got sultry. “How to bend them to their will.” At this point Chase’s mind was a blur, unable to focus on anything but sensation. On those hands working over the muscles beneath. Chase let slip out a moan. “Exactly…” Q said breathlessly. That day started to play in Chase’s mind again. Except now it felt that Q’s intentions were much clearer. And then it happened again: the hands slowly sliding down his chest. He began to stand up, but Q forced him down into the seat.

“Now, now,” he said in a deeper voice, “did I say you could go just yet?”

“Wha? Brian, I…” Chase trailed off. He was flustered, only able to stammer occasional words that didn’t make sentences.

“How appropriate that Chase is your name,” Q said, “because you really gave me the run-around.” He began slowly, methodically unbuttoning Chase’s shirt. He ignored Chase’s half-formed words of protest, having to slowly lean in as he reached lower buttons. Chase could feel the warmth radiating from Q’s body. He could feel their beards brush together as Q leaned in to get the last button. He could feel hot breath on his neck.

“Now, it’s only natural you’re confused,” Q whispered with mock concern. “You’re a busy man, you haven’t made time for yourself.” He slowly opened Chase’s unbuttoned shirt, exposing his torso to central air. It felt icy in contrast to the heat Q’s body was giving off. “But I have been a lonely man in need of attention, and it turns out you are just my type.”

“B-Brian, you-”

“Shh, I know,” Q interrupted. “You’re confused, overwhelmed, but that’s okay.” Q’s hands started to massage Chase’s exposed chest, eliciting little moans and perplexed gasps. “See, I've worked the crew side too on other projects.” He whispered into Chase’s ear, “I know how to smooth out these bumps and snags.” Q came around to the front of the chair. He straddled Chase’s lap, surrounding it on both sides with those thighs. Chase reflexively placed his hands on those thighs, highlighting the difference between Q’s pale skin and Chase’s bronzed look.

“Hey, good job,” Q said, letting his voice slip back into his normal tone, “I didn’t even tell you to do that yet!” Chase let out a flustered giggle before Q resumed his more seductive tone. “Now where were we?” He began toying with one of Chase’s nipples. Chase tried to look down, but he felt the press of Q’s finger pulling up on his chin. “Ah ah ah, eyes up here.” Chase couldn’t help but chuckle at the reference even as that finger traced his jawline. Q’s other hand slid over to the other nipple and began pulling on it. Chase’s eyes lit up, but Q reasserted their attention with a firm clearing of the throat.

For a while now Chase could feel his erection forming, his cock filling with blood. He could feel it nudging up desperately at the warmth of Q’s chunky rump. Apparently Q had now noticed too, glancing downward briefly.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Q whispered seductively, “we’ll get to that. But first…” He stood up off of Chase and began undoing the rocker shorts. “...I need something from you.”

“Yeah?” Chase replied throatily, enthralled by the Joker before him. Q’s response was to drop his shorts and undies in one go, leaving on the boots. Chase glanced at Q’s erect cock and back up at him.

With one hand presenting said cock and the other taking a hold of Chase’s hair, Q said, “You know what to do, right?”

“Yeah…” Chase whispered somewhat eagerly.

“I said, do you know what to do?” Chase nodded more eagerly. Q put that cock up to Chase’s mouth and began thrusting slowly, keeping a grip on his hair. Chase could feel the heat and the smoothness of it. He could feel the occasional tug as Q’s pubic hair collided with his beard. He could taste it as a low, hushed moan came from above. “Oh… yeah…” Q pulled too far back and let it slip out, but Chase leaned in and started sucking on the vein. “Yeah…!” Q groaned with much more satisfaction.

Now Chase was intoxicated with lust. Seeing Q’s joy made Chase want to excite him more. He reached a hand up and massaged Q’s testicles gently while he took the cock back in his mouth. He sucked as hard as he could to motivate Q to thrust again.

“Oh, Jason,” Q groaned loudly.

“Jason?” Chase tried to say, muffled by Q’s penis.

“Chase!” Q corrected hastily. “Chase!” Chase made a muffled sound of acknowledgement and resumed sucking hard on Q’s cock. Shocked at Chase’s quick turnaround, Q let out a surprised moan, throwing his head back. “Oh fuck, Chase!” Q had to pull out for fear of going off then and there, instead opting to go to his knees. “Now let’s see what you’re packing.” He quickly undid Chase’s pants and had them down around the ankles. 

“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” he shouted excitedly, admiring Chase’s shaft before working it really hard in his hand. Chase groaned desperately, thrusting into Q’s hand. Q’s mouth kissed around Chase’s tan, not-insignificant thighs. His beard tickled Chase slightly, but he was too entrenched in Q’s speedy jerking to giggle. 

This only continued briefly before Q directed Chase to hop up on the table, on all fours. Malleable with desire, Chase complied. Though completely stripped from the waste down, Chase was ordered to leave his unbuttoned shirt on. For his own part, Q threw his shirt to the floor, leaving nothing but his watch and the boots on. After some hard spanking and a good few minutes of anal play, Q pushed his cock inside Chase. His watch hand gripped Chase’s bronzed hips, and his other hand was pulling Chase’s hair back. Chase’s moans filled the office, peppered by Q’s grunts and yeahs. 

He eventually let Chase’s hair go and pushed his shoulders down. He ordered Chase to beat himself off, his ass spread wide for Q to go even deeper. Q had each hand now gripping a buttock as he thrusted his cock in as hard as he could. Eventually Chase came, feeling his prostate twitch against Q’s throbbing cock. Q cracked a joke about Chase making a mess over “important papers” before finally cumming inside. Chase could feel Q’s cock pumping hot fluid into him before slowly pulling out. Chase collapsed atop the desk, and Q staggered over to the armchair, plopping down on it.

The room was filled with labored breathing, but Chase’s mind was filled with a haze of thoughts. Is this the start of something? What came over me? What happens next? Eventually Q rose to his feet, approached the desk, and gave Chase’s ass a hard smack. He let out a yelp of pain.

“You got a nice ass, buddy,” Q informed him jovially. “I should get going. Big shoot tomorrow.” Chase looked up at him. “Better get your rest. We’re doing the boat bit for the movie.” Chase could only look on, perplexed, as Q gathered his own clothes, got dressed, and made his way out.

\------  
“Agh!” the voice of Chase cried from the computer speaker, just after a loud smack. The laptop sat in a darkened office, the light of day sneaking in from behind the blinds.

“You got a nice ass, buddy!” It was the voice of Q, also from the speaker, accompanied by a chuckle. The screen showed the nearly-nude forms of Q and Chase in an office, caught by a hidden camera in the corner of the room. The lone figure paused the video with a sigh.

“I know this isn’t exactly what we agreed upon,” another voice spoke quietly from over the lone figure’s shoulder. “But, I thought you’d be interested in this development.” A moment of silence, followed by the second man’s nervous pace to the window. He parted the window to peek out. “It’s early, but still someone might’ve seen you. You’re hard to miss.” He looked back, his silhouette lit up from behind, shadows obscuring his face.

“So he’s found a replacement,” the lone figure whispered, his voice gravelly.

“Is it not to your liking?” the second man inquired, concerned. “I can continue if you’d prefer.”

“No,” the lone figure replied, “this will do.” He reached down from under the desk and pulled out a large suitcase. He lifted it up and set it on the desk. “As promised, McPartland.” The second man approached the suitcase. He eagerly popped open the clasps and pulled it open. Inside was an arakh, the sword used by the Dothraki on Game of Thrones.

“Jackpot!” the second man whispered giddily. “It sure looks authentic.”

“It is.”

“Of course, I’m not second-guessing you. Just hard to believe you’d part with memorabilia like this.”

“I have a second one anyway.” The lone figure closed the laptop at last. “Besides, now I know that I can’t just accept the outcome anymore.”

“Outcome?” the second man asked. “What outcome?”

“I have to make him remember,” the lone figure whispered, a devilish grin on his face.

“...Remember what?!”


End file.
